User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March Original/@comment-1427879-20130706175126/@comment-3135907-20150416024847

After the short pause for lunch, the shrew sits up with a stretch. "Best we were on our way, mates. Let's see if'n we can't make it come evenin'." The shrew wraps up the food and replaces it in the "pickernick basket", then tramps over to the waiting logboat. "Pick an oar, mates, an' let's be goin', aye."